Reading Between the Lines
by Transformette
Summary: Madara and Hashirama get drunk. Testosterone is involved. (My excuse to make it fluffy.)


**Reading Between the Lines**

_Rating: T _

_Summary: Madara and Hashirama get drunk. Testosterone is involved. _

_Warnings: Some swearing, Tobirama being a bore. _

_Additional remarks: none _

* * *

"Finally, our clans cease their fight."

Yup. Madara wasn't dumb, but he failed to understand the reason why everyone was making such a fuss of him and  
Hashirama shaking hands. They'd done it a hundred times before; never in front of an audience, but still.  
Hashirama's hand was harsh and rough, but warm. It was a hand that showed mercy and kindness, but could also  
strike painfully, as Madara knew very well from personal experience.

Right now Hashirama was the model Senju. He was calm and serene, oblivious of Madara's true incentive. His  
speech (or rather rant, in Madara's opinion) about peace and love was meeting with great support from his  
listeners, but Madara was accustomed to Hashirama's silver tongue. It didn't affect him in the least, so  
he just watched the Senju calmly with a drink in his hand, surrounded by other Uchiha.

The whole afterpary thing was NOT Madara's idea. Supposedly, it wasn't Hashirama's either. Madara's suspicions  
fell upon the women of the two clans; after all, someone must have prepared that feast and beverages.

The drink in his hand had a pretty, fan-shaped piece of candy in it.

How cute.

"Madara-sama, I think it's time you finally talked to Senju-san.", he heard a lowered voice near his ear. That  
probably was a good plan, since the Senju and the Uchiha were best friends now. Madara fought the urge to  
shudder.

"Right.", he nodded in a rapid jerk of his head and put his drink down, getting out of his seat dubiously.

Tension crackled in the air. Step by step, he made his way closer to Hashirama, noticing a few inquisitive  
looks following him. The Uchiha found them slightly annoying, but he knew there was nothing else to expect from  
the people. How clan leaders behaved toward each other publicly and privately were two completely different  
matters, and everyone was interested in the 'private' part.

It wasn't common knowledge that Hashirama and Madara had been close friends and rivals before they began  
fighting. Neither of them was the sort to apprise all their friends of what they'd endured in their childhood.  
Madara was hardly ever even asked, while Hashirama burst out laughing and pretended he hadn't heard the  
question.

Only a Senju could do something like that. Deafen himself with his own giggles.

Madara's hand fell onto Hashirama's shoudler with a soft thump. His expression was emotionless, making  
Hashirama's listeners worried. Were the Uchiha breaking the truce already? Was Madara going to fight Hashirama?

Easing all their doubts, the Senju plastered a wide smile across his face before turning to the other man.  
"Have you finally come to join us? You're such a wallflower, you know.", he said.

A sound of multiple people breathing out could be heard.

"I wanted to talk to you in private"

Air being rapidly sucked in.

"Fu, serious as always", Hashirama beamed at the small group. "Sorry, fellas, Madara apparently lacks a brain  
of his own"

Madara couldn't leave that be. He waited until they were an agreeable distance from the square the feast was  
being held on, and stopped.

"I have a brain.", he muttered grumpily.

Hashirama laughed.

"What a kid you are, really. And you say I'm immature"

"You're sure getting accustomed to this new situation fast", Madara looked left, changing the subject,  
focusing on the feasting and talking people. It was a warm summer evening, almost night, lit up by the setting  
sun's faint glow and orange paper lanterns hanging from lines draped above the square.

The lanterns had both Uchiha fans and Senju symbols on them.

Madara was getting sick and tired of this general joy and pleasantry. Truce or not, they had been rival clans  
for decades. History couldn't be changed by one handshake.

"It's funny to see you so lost, clinging to your Uchiha fellows like a puppy to its mother.", Hashirama  
said flamboyantly, crossing his arms on his half-bared chest. Due to the tepid air, they were all dressed  
in thin, silky kimonos tied loosely in the middle.

A sudden draft toyed with Madara's long, already messy black hair. He turned his face back to Hashirama.

"I wasn't clinging to them. I'm completely comfortable with talking to you"

"Do you know what you do when you're nervous?", Hashirama leaned forward. Madara felt himself heat up with  
pointless anger when he realised the Senju was a few inches taller than him. "You stutter."

"I don't stutter."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I d-don't!"

"Ha! You just did."

Madara flamed.

"Only because you tricked me!", he pointed out. "I'm not some dumb peasant who you can control as you like  
with your eloquent tongue."

Hashirama's brow furrowed lightly.

"I don't control people. That's your area, Sharingan Showoff"

Just when their conversation was getting heated, they found themselves smiling. Madara clicked his tongue.

"The Sharingan is a great pride of the Uchiha Clan. I reserve the right to present it whenever I want"

"You really think yourself emperor of the universe, don't you?", Hashirama chuckled, shaking his head. He  
wasn't  
actually irked; his face expressed only amusement. Sometimes, just sometimes, Madara wondered how the hell  
Hashirama ever put up with his constant grumbling and general brutality. Then Madara remembered all the times  
he punched the Senju in the gut, placed him under savage genjutsu...

Hashirama was, ultimately, a man with a golden heart.

Of course Madara scolded himself for ever thinking that. He made an effort of pulling forward all the flaws the  
Senju possessed - that he was goofy, immature, foolish, and naive. So very naive. That last trait bothered  
Madara the most. When he looked Hashirama in the eyes, it was like looking in the eyes of a child.

Deep down, the Uchiha craved only to protect that child. He wouldn't admit it out loud, not even under brutal  
torture, but he knew it all too well.

If someone... someone other than him, of course... were to ever hurt Hashirama, Madara would hang their  
head from the Hokage's office window using their intestines.

"Yes. So obey me.", Madara ruffled Hashirama's hair suddenly, in a strange and unexpected yet friendly gesture.  
Hashirama put a ridiculous amout of time and money into his hair, and messing it up was just too satisfying.  
The Senju blinked, just in time to see Madara's eyes flash red with the Sharingan.

* * *

"You and your damn visual prowess.", Hashirama hiccuped, leaning on Madara's shoulder. They were back at the  
square, having finished their brief episode inside Madara's genjutsu. The Senju was slightly upset about it,  
since he'd let the other man catch him off guard, but then...

He didn't need to keep his guard up anymore, did he?

Through his slightly drunken eyes Hashirama could still see Madara was not being true. He knew it very well, he  
also knew Madara thought he hadn't noticed.

But he had.

He just hoped that if he didn't push the Uchiha, if he subtly showed him he was really letting him back into  
his heart, maybe Madara would open up again.

Hashirama needed that more than anything.

"The Sh-sh-sharingan is the p-p-pride of the Uchiha Clan...", Madara managed, ungracefully plopping himself  
down on the bar stool with Hashirama literally hanging on him. Some other people at the party were giving them  
amused looks and whispering things like 'who knew...' and 'my, my, they really are becoming friends...'

"You stutter when you're drunk. It's actually kind of cute."

"Shut up, Senju bastard.", phew, at least he didn't stutter on that one.

"Eeeeh..."

"D-drinking is stupid and irresponsible, you should-", Madara hiccuped, "-know that"

"Really, Madara? Really?"

The Uchiha suddenly felt an urge to push Hashirama's face into a bowl of something hot and smelly. Like ramen.  
Even miso soup alone would do. He just wanted him to shut up.

Hashirama could collect all the stupid titles he wanted. Clan Leader? Meh. All the others seemed to be so  
impressed, they'd bow down and sweep the ground with their hair. But he wasn't going to treat Hashirama any  
different because of it.

Madara Uchiha was emperor of the universe, that was that. Hashirama could consider himself his lowly servant...

"Oi, Madi-kun."

Black eyes flamed with Sharingan.

"You did NOT-"

"Try this. Fo real, it's delish."

"It's probably disgusting.", Madara narrowed his Sharingan eyes at him.

"Oi, Madi-kun..."

Madara was about to hit him, really.

With some tiny part of his mind that was still thinking rationally, he decided that would ruin the truce.  
People wouldn't be happy to know Hashirama and Madara got into a fierce drunken fist fight the same day they  
finally made up.

This was going to have to do.

"I'm not trying that shit.", with that, Madara grabbed Hashirama's hair and yanked him down, slamming his  
forehead against the counter.

"Ouch, that hurt!", the Senju straightened up again with an angry frown, but to Madara's great surprise, it  
soon vanished. "Oi, Madi-kun... we should have our villagers wear forehead protectors. Yeah, that'd be  
awesome..."

Hashirama only used the word 'awesome' when he was very, very drunk.

Madara placed his chin on his hand, putting his elbow on the counter.

"I suppose that's a nice idea", he replied finally, blinking to keep his eyes open and Sharingan working.

"'Tis?", Hashirama brightened up. "Dear, we should really get you drunk more often, y'know"

The Uchiha grunted.

"Hn."

"Oh, you used the 'dammit-I'm-stoned' grunt", Hashirama yawned without bothering to cover his mouth with his  
hand.

"Do you h-have a list?", Madara asked in a tone that suggested he couldn't possibly care less.

"Yeah, sure I do.", Hashirama sneezed. He was displaying all kinds of strange behaviours at the time. "There's  
the I'm-so-very-glad-to-see-you grunt, that's your greeting... there's the I'm-gonna-beat-the-shit-out-of-you  
grunt, the one you use for battle..."

"I'm positive I only use ONE grunt, Hashirama."

"Shhh, Madi-kun. I'm making things interesting."

Madara turned his face away, and after precisely making sure Hashirama wouldn't notice, he allowed himself a  
melancholy smile. Guilt hit his heart... but he quickly lied to himself. Enjoying oneself on a mission wasn't  
a crime. Hashirama always said that, didn't he?

Exactly, that was the problem.

"Asleep already?", the Senju nudged him with his shoulder.

"I'm tired.", Madara made an effort of not stuttering. "Let's go."

"What do you mean, 'let's go'?", came a new voice.

Madara scowled upon recognising the deep, low tones. Don't kill him. Don't kill him. Don't kill him. Slowly,  
both men turned around on their respective stools. Hashirama's eyes were slightly dull, but Madara stayed  
sharp.

Tobirama crossed his arms on his chest. His makeup- facial paint, that is, was even more elaborate than usual  
and his grey kimono had the Senju symbol sewn on in several places. It made Madara sick.

He was shocked to find out Hashirama knew exactly what he was thinking about.

"Come on, it's just like you parading your Sharingan", he taunted with a stupid smirk plastered on his face.

"Don't compare me to him!", Tobirama and Madara snapped at the same time, but the Uchiha fell out of rhythm  
because of a small stutter.

Hashirama burst out laughing.

"In any case...", Tobirama sighed, touching his forehead with his fingers. "Hashirama-nii-san, I must talk to  
you about an important matter. In private."

"Oi... Tobi-chan. Anything you wanna say to me, you can say in front of Madi-kun.", with this Hashirama  
threw his arm around Madara's shoulders.

Both men - Senju and Uchiha - flinched. This display was starting to become embarrassing and for the first (and  
last) time in their lives Tobirama and Madara shared a moment of mutual understanding.

"All rooms have been prepared", Tobirama cleared his throat, bowed shortly (strictly in the direction of his  
older brother, which was quite a feat considering how close he was to Madara in that moment) and speedily  
walked away, pretending he had no affiliation whatsoever to Hashirama.

Madara lifted himself off the stool.

"Come on, Hashirama-sama, you're d-drunk."

Hashirama was having a moment of clarity.

"Did I call you Madi-kun...?"

Madara winced.

"N-no"

The Senju clan leader burst into giggles. The Uchiha considered slamming his head against something heavy and  
hoping he wouldn't remember in the morning.

"It's not funny.", Madara grumbled. "You're... too jubilant"

"Madara, what's wrong with being happy?"

All kinds of things, Madara thought with a gloomy expression.

* * *

Finally, peace and quiet. Moonlight shone through the paper walls, filling the room with an eerie blue glow.  
Madara lay on his back. He'd been like this for two hours, unable to fall asleep. It was the peculiarity of  
mankind (even the emperor of the universe was included) that when tired, all humans craved for a warm bed and  
sleep, but when their wishes were fulfilled, they couldn't succumb to slumber.

Damn it.

Damn it all to hell.

Madara was used to sleeping on the cold, hard ground. He had been born into war. A tent had been his home, his  
squad leader - his father. His fellow soldiers - his brothers.

Or... was it the other way around?

Madara didn't know anymore. Izuna... calm and stoic Izuna. Izuna kept him sane. With a long sigh, he ran his  
hands over his long black hair. Despite what Hashirama did to ease Tobirama's sin, Madara would never, ever  
forget. Tobirama had killed his little brother. And he was going to pay in his own blood.

It wasn't Hashirama's death that he wanted. He just wanted justice. Madara deeply believed in the 'an eye for  
an eye' rule, and the only way of easing his own pain after the loss of Izuna was murdering Tobirama. Brutally  
and mercilessly.

His sensory type mind picked up a well-known chakra signature. There was only one chakra like this in the whole  
world; it made Madara think of leaves, woods, and moist moss under his feet. It made him recall the river, and  
hours spent on the bank with Hashirama.

Madara snapped out of the memory. Wood Style chakra.

That was it.

"Hashirama", he called out, sitting up in his bed. The passing shadow stopped and slid the door open, walking  
inside.

"Madara, I've had the most wonderful idea"

Brown eyes shining with enthusiasm, Hashirama plopped himself down at the feet of the Uchiha's bed and crossed  
his legs.

Madara hadn't been sleeping, but it wasn't normal for a man to just barge in and start talking, so he yawned.

"Do you know what time it is?", he asked in a falsely sleepy voice.

Hashirama gave him a doubtful look.

"Oh, please, we both know these beds are way too soft to actually sleep in them, so don't pretend you were."

Damn it. Seeing right through him, as always.

"Alright, fine. What's your brilliant idea, Senju-sama?"

"I'm going to establish a head of the whole village!"

Silence. And a goofy grin on Hashirama's face.

"Idiot!", Madara punched him. "And you really had to come to my room to tell me that? Go bother your little  
brother."

"Tobirama? Eh, he's already gotten used to these damn beds.", Hashirama bumbed up and down on the soft  
mattress,  
making Madara move as well. Needless to say, the emperor of the universe was not too happy about this.

"Stop that!", he snapped. "I don't care about your stupid head of the village."

"Oi, you wanted part in it, didn't you?"

Madara froze.

"I..."

That office Hashirama was going on about... it would certainly put him in a high chair. Feudal lords, other  
villages...

"No", Madara shook his head. "I don't have time for that"

Hashirama pulled his knees to his chest and looked down, a black cloud of depression swarming above his head.  
Madara was his closest friend. He wanted to regain that bond... he'd already proven he was willing to take  
his own life for him. Back then, on the battlefield, Hashirama didn't know Madara would stop him. When he put  
the sharp kunai to his gut, he really expected it to be the end.

That hand closing around his.

Stopping the final blow.

"It's enough", Madara said back then.

Was that man really going to be his ally again? In the beginning, Hashirama thought their bond unbreakable.  
Countless hours spent as children, talking in elated voices about how they were going to change the world  
together.

Then, the discovery. "Next time, we'll meet on the battlefield. Hashirama Senju... I am Madara Uchiha."

Flash of the blood red Sharingan.

So much hatred.

"Madara. I need you.", Hashirama broke his own trail of thought, smacking the intrusive memories away. "I can't  
build a village alone, I never could."

"Use your Wood Style jutsu.", Madara grumbled, pulling one knee to his chest and looking away.

"You know that's not what I mean!", the Senju cried a little too loud and glanced at the door sheepishly. When  
nothing happened, he turned to the Uchiha again. "Listen, and don't get mad at me. You never had a chance in  
winning, okay?"

Madara's black eyes activated the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan, as he sent Hashirama a nasty glare.

Hashirama wasn't moved.

"That Sharigan is really ugly."

Surprising the Uchiha, it switched itself right off.

"What?", he snapped. "That's not the point!"

"No really, it makes you look dizzy."

"What are you going on about, you moron? Why are you even talking about my Sharingan? What's with all this-

Madara furiously gestured with his hands, searching for the right words.

The corners of Hashirama's lips were dangerously pulling upwards.

After a second, he burst out laughing.

"Shut up!", Madara hissed, and for lack of a more fitting object, tossed his folded kimono at him.

Hashirama giggled.

"You're such a dumbass, Madara. But at least you haven't changed."

"I have-"

Have I?

Madara had thought he was a completely different person. With Hashirama, it was the world that changed - and  
the two boys remained the same. Madara knew things couldn't be just like they had been, but perhaps...

Hashirama could see Madara was deep in thought. And he knew it was good.

He offered the Uchiha a bright smile.

"Madara... heh."

* * *

-fin-


End file.
